


Susurrus

by Celemion



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Gen, Short Story, Spoilers, post tdotl, questions: answered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29350119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celemion/pseuds/Celemion
Summary: Valkyrie Cain is gone. Skulduggery Pleasant needs answers. The Necropolis is waiting.
Kudos: 3





	Susurrus

It wasn’t clear how the visitor managed to open the entrance to the Necropolis and descend those obsidian stairs alone. Footsteps, measured and precise, cut through the stagnant air that no one breathed like bullets fired at nothing. Perhaps it was the nature of the visitor that allowed them to do so or it was the vestiges of necromancer power that coiled within that coaxed the Necropolis to bid them enter. Either way, it didn’t matter. They were expected, and the Validator was waiting.

He stood there, apparently alone, and the souls of the dead whispered in his ear while he did so. A voice drifted past and the Validator smiled, porcelain features shifting.

“He approaches at his own pace,” the Validator replied to open air, “and I shall not rush him.”

Another whisper, brushing past his hood.

“I thought the dead were supposed to be patient creatures,” he said. “Have restraint.”

The footsteps grew in volume and the Validator waited. He wasn’t sure for how long, presumably only a few minutes, but time meant nothing in this city. Those were concerns for the living.

The visitor arrived, finally, stepping from around the corner. A glove hand was splayed open before them which dropped as the Validator came into view. The visitor stopped, that last step fading slowly as silence swooped in to snatch the sound away. They were tall and thin and solid and stood there without speaking. The Validator observed them. He had no need to rush. The dead all spoke in their own time.

“Hello,” Skulduggery Pleasant said.

His voice was strong and it covered the distance between them without trepidation.

“Hello,” the Validator responded, “again.”

“Glad to see you managed to make it out of that hole I pushed you in last time. How was it? Comfortable?”

“It was not unexpected. You are a man prone to violence after all.”

“So I’ve been told.”

The gaze of those empty eye sockets held no weight to the Validator and he smiled. “You have returned.”

“I have.”

“We’ve been waiting.”

“Apparently not all of you. I would be offended if I cared at all.”

“They have no part in the reasons for which you came.”

“Is that so?”

“You have questions.”

“I do.”

A murmur, passing softly by. A name.

“You wish to speak to a soul,” the Validator said, and the spirit behind him buzzed contentedly. Skulduggery didn’t move.

“Yes.”

“But that is only one of your questions. Ask them, and we may answer.”

Skulduggery shifted finally, his skull tilting. “You don’t already know?”

The Validator spread his hands. It had been so long since he had moved. “I do, but the dead wish to hear you ask.”

Skulduggery grunted. “I want to know who you are,” he said finally. “And I want a straight answer. No riddles. No mind games.”

“I am me,” the Validator said, “and this is the Necropolis. But that isn’t what you want to hear, is it?”

The dead man looked at him but didn’t answer.

“Of course not.” The Validator shifted slightly, clasping his hands before him. He didn’t need to adjust, never became uncomfortable or felt the need to fidget, but the movement seemed appropriate and he let his shoulders relax.

“I am the Validator,” he continued, “and that is the best answer I can give you. It is both a title, a purpose, and, I suppose, a name, though the dead do not require names in the way that the living do. There is understanding that comes with death where this place and what it means becomes clear. You have tasted this knowledge, but your ties to the world of the living keep this understanding from you. Until you let your soul join the stream, where it is meant to be, I am afraid you will not be able to comprehend what exactly I am.”

“And this is the same with your friends?”

“Yes. We are all a part of the same system.”

Skulduggery was silent for a moment. “And those images. Of the people I knew. Were you in my head? Reading my mind? I was under the impression my thoughts were unreadable.”

“No,” the Validator said, “we are not psychics. They simply wished to make themselves known.”

“And where are they now? Why aren’t they trying to pull me down to wherever they took me last time?”

“Last time you were here to be tested. This time, you are not. Your dead have no obligation to speak with you.”

The skull shook slowly. “Those weren’t my dead. My dead are gone.”

“Yes,” the Validator said, patiently, “they are. Gone from the living world. But you are not in the living world.”

“Alright,” Skulduggery said, “I’ll humor you. If these really are the souls of the dead, why are they here? According to you necromancers, aren’t souls supposed to rejoin the stream to be born again and complete this amazing circle of life? Or, God forbid, is this supposed to be the afterlife? Not too impressive, if that’s the case.”

“I am not a necromancer. I am--”

“The Validator,” Skulduggery cut in, “so you’ve said. Answer my questions.”

“A soul's energy rejoins the stream, but it's distinctness, it’s personality, what made that soul different from every other, comes here. It is a resting place, yes. The Necropolis can be anything for the dead. When you died, your soul was kept waiting at the doors of this city, unable to pass its threshold and it did the only thing it was able to do. It returned to your body, aided by the necromancy power that killed you and kept you from those who wait for you here.”

“You’re lying.”

“You know that I am not.”

“Those weren’t my dead. My dead wouldn’t have gotten in the way. They would have seen the importance of what we were doing, of what I was doing. They would have understood. Ghastly would have--” 

Skulduggery stopped, suddenly, and his jaw closed. 

“If those are my dead,” he said finally and voice hard, “why the hell did they try and stop me?”

The Validator smiled, patience unlimited. “You were here to be tested. They simply did as the Necropolis asked.”

Skulduggery didn’t move and the Validator did the same. They stood there, both still and silent and dead. Though, the Validator supposed, he himself wasn’t technically dead, just as he technically wasn’t alive. He just was. The skeleton still stood there. A soul drifted past amused, pulling him from his wandering thoughts, and the Validator understood.

“You are upset,” he said. Skulduggery did nothing.

“I am many things,” Skulduggery responded, finally, “and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to guess. It annoys me.”

“That is true,” the Validator admitted, “but there are others here who don’t need to guess. You have gone very still and very quiet, and I am told this is a sign that you are angry. I mean no disrespect.”

The skeleton had no response to that, and his head moved back slightly. Surprise, a soul told him, and the rise in shoulders meant irritation and tension. The Validator thought it best not to comment on these things.

“You have other questions,” he said, instead, “and they are of much importance to you.”

It took a moment, but the shoulders slowly relaxed, so slightly that the Validator almost missed it. 

“Yes,” Skulduggery said, and the edge to his voice had faded back into a general air of nonchalance. “How linked are souls and true names?”

“Very little,” the Validator said. He was prepared with the answer and the words came easily. “Practically not at all.”

“Why not?”

“Sorcerers like you believe that magic flows through your true name and it is by discovering this name that you gain access to the full potential of magic, but you seem to forget of such creatures who do not operate in the same way. Witches and warlocks, for example. They have no such dependency on names and yet magic still flows through them. It is a much purer magic than what you use, but also much more unwieldy in nature. Your true names are simply a different path towards channeling your magic.”

“Everyone has a true name.”

“Yes, this is correct. But they hold no sway over one who beholds no power to them. Witches and warlocks can bypass them completely. They do, however, still have souls in the same way sorcerers do.”

Skulduggery thought about this for a moment and the Validator let him do so in silence.

“So losing one’s true name,” he said, “has nothing to do with the soul?”

The Validator went silent for a moment and listened to the souls around him. “You speak of Valkyrie Cain.”

“I do.”

“And you would be correct. Her true name, in the form of Darquesse, has left her, while her soul remains intact. Though, you already knew that, didn’t you? You simply wish to actualize your theory.”

“Something like that.”

“And have you?”

“It would appear so. It looks like you have all the answers.”

The Validator shook his head and moved his hands behind him. “That is not entirely true. The Necropolis deals with the souls of the dead, not the source of magic and your questions breach a realm I am not overly familiar with. I am simply drawing upon my limited knowledge. Death is the only certainty I have to offer.”

“That hasn’t been my experience.”

The Validator allowed a soft smile to creep across his face. “It will be. You will come to join us one day. There are some here who have been waiting for you for so long.”

“Then why haven’t they shown themselves?”

“Out of respect,” the Validator shrugged, “and because the dead can be such fickle things. There is something else you wish to ask.”

“Yes. I want to speak to a soul.”

The Validator nodded. “I must tell you that I have no power over those that dwell here. If they wish to speak with you, they will, but I cannot force them.”

“Inconvenient,” Skulduggery said, “but understandable.”

“Who do you wish to speak to?”

The skeleton hesitated for a moment, his jaw open slightly, as if wanting to say a name but his thoughts were moving too fast to allow the words to emerge. Of course, there were many souls he must wish to speak to, many names that the Validator knew were waiting to be said and the souls behind him were waiting to hear. He wondered, briefly, if Skulduggery would falter and slip and fall prey to the desire (or perhaps the curiosity, in this case) that bubbled just beneath the surface.

And then the teeth closed and the jaw set and the shoulders squared.

“I want to speak with Erskine Ravel,” Skulduggery said.

The Validator felt the souls around him ripple. They weren’t surprised, for this had been expected, but the Validator understood.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but that is not possible.”

“And why is that?”

“Because when you put him into the Accelerator and his soul was offered to it, he was obliterated. Absorbed. The very energy that has been looping through life for all of eternity was swallowed up.”

“What about his personality? That bit you say comes here?”

The Validator didn’t respond, didn’t feel the need to humor a question he knew had already been answered. Skulduggery nodded.

“Good,” was all he said.

The Validator watched as Skulduggery tugged at his cuffs and then straightened his tie.

“Well,” he said, “thank you for... not much, really. You’ve been a mediocre help. I won’t be back.”

A gloved hand brushed the brim of his hat and he turned without waiting for a reply. The Validator felt the soul beside him and spoke for it.

“You could stay here,” he echoed, “you could join us. Find happiness. There is nothing holding you to that world anymore. You can come home.”

But the skeleton didn’t respond. He didn’t even turn around. He just walked and disappeared and the Necropolis watched him leave.

**Author's Note:**

> The Necropolis is very interesting to me as a concept and a part of canon and I see absolutely no reason why Skulduggery wouldn't have returned after Val left for America. I suppose this is me using extremely light head canon to explore some of the SP lore. Mainly meant for fun, I figured there's no point in not posting this. :)
> 
> For those of you who read my other ongoing fic and are wondering why it's not getting updated: I'm taking a break. It has not been abandoned. I swear.
> 
> Also, if you have fic ideas or inspiration you want to see written, drop it to me and I might possibly maybe take a stab! I use short fics to break up the monotony of school writing and personal writing and I'm always looking for new inspiration.
> 
> Cheers.


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